


Potter, I'm sure you understand what's coming next?

by SlySama



Series: Punishment Tales [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angry Sex, Confused Harry, Corporal Punishment, Extremely Dubious Consent, First Time, Handcuffs, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Paddling, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Confusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 09:22:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12861555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlySama/pseuds/SlySama
Summary: So, Harry fell asleep in Ravenclaw and now he has to live with the truthful rumours that will spread immediately during that morning at Breakfast, as he sneaks out to the WHOLE of Ravenclaw common room.So, he was probably right about Snape being jealous?Because he's certainly pissed, and what's wrong with a Phoenix anyway?He's so fucking confused, and now he's got anxiety that half the time his heart rates twice what it normally would be. Did he like women, did he like men, did he like both to some extent?Was he starting to develop some fucked up kink because of all of this? Because he was sure he probably shouldn't be responding the way his body was, and he was pretty sure he shouldn't want it the way he did, and he was definitely sure that Snape is his Teacher and a PRICK.





	Potter, I'm sure you understand what's coming next?

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, that privilege and ownership belongs to J.K Rowling herself.  
I merely borrow them to write some fanfictions that hopefully are enjoyed by those that read them :) I make no money out of it.

 

‘Well fuck’ he swore, whispering.

He bit his lip as he slipped from the mussed light blue covered mattress, took his pants in hand and since he couldn’t seem to locate his underwear anywhere, which he found kind of alarming, he slid into them, adjusted himself until he was relatively comfortable under the uneven material of his denim jeans, found his emerald shirt and dragged that over his head hissing a tad as he seem to pull more than the imagery that was now imprinted permanently into his back.

He shifted his back muscles a bit and winced, he looked around the interior of the curtains and spotting a mirror covered in notes that only a Ravenclaw and Hermione would write plastered there, he held the shirt away from him, half on and stared backwards over his shoulder to see.  
‘Oh’ He continued to whisper; she’d scratched him, long gashes that would scab over quickly were now reddened and crisscrossed over each other, the scars that were now there and the imagery that seemed to scowl at him for his actions.  
He looked away with a flush and dropped the material to his hips then steeled himself to walk past the blue curtains.

It took a couple minutes and by that time he was sure as he finally edged himself out, the soft material sweeping over his shoulder that Luna’s light blue crystal eyes were half lidden and staring at him silently as he snuck out. He did mentally SMACK himself as he did this, because he probably shouldn’t do that like he was doing something he shouldn’t be—but he kind of felt like maybe it was doing something he shouldn’t be. He froze as he got to the common room, eyes going wide behind his specs as 30 odd students turned to him.

He swallowed.

‘What are you doing in here?’

‘Uh?’ He floundered.

‘This is Ravenclaw Tower.’

‘I know that.’ He strangled out.

‘Then what are you doing here at 7 in the morning?’

‘Oh.’ He uttered. ‘Uh’ His eyes wondered the room for a moment, trying to think of a reason when mutterings started up around the common area. He chewed at his lip and scrunched his hands into his trousers as he heard a lot of the same mutterings. Mainly, things like “He’s wearing the same clothes from yesterday when he went with Luna to Hogsmeade, remember?” and “He came out of the Dormitory, anyone not registering that?” and “He’s bright red.” After some more floundering, Harry cleared his throat and mumbled something as he quickly walked toward the portal; escaping.

This was going to be all over Hogwarts within the hour. Fuck, he thought vehemently.

//

When Harry finally made his way down to Sunday Breakfast, freshened from a shower at Gryffindor Tower and in some new clothes with underwear, Harry mentally smacked himself again for good measure when eyes immediately turned toward him and snickers started from the Slytherin Table.

‘Good for you Potter!!’

'Finally got some huh?!' 

'Great not to be a famous virgin huh?!' 

'Shame it was Looney!!' 

Harry’s head immediately fell in agony at the snickering shouts from the Snake’s table, his cheeks flaming red and ears just as heated under his tussled strands. He was sure it was twice as worse than usual considering that he’d been running his hands constantly through it as he descended the stairs. As he walked himself toward the Lion’s table, he could feel a very heated stare directed at him; he was afraid to look but as he pushed his leg over the bench, he turned his head just slightly to stare up at the Head Table, his eyes immediately laying on those of the intense Black of Snape.

He almost recoiled.

The stare was black, yes, but it was BLACK.

Snape looked intensely pissed.

He blinked and quickly sat, emerald eyes dropping to the table as he just slightly shook as he took to putting things on his plate under the stares and juice into his goblet. He was through half of his breakfast, enduring the heat, the laughter, the mutters, the rumours that bounced around, echoed, and were twisted, and endured his table and his friends asking him questions when he suddenly got clarity.

He was supposed to go to Snape, EVERY day.

Then something else occurred, but that shouldn’t make Snape’s stare exude “Pain”.

//

He tried to stay close to his friends on Sunday, he went with them everywhere, fuck he even followed Ron into the bathroom several times until Ron had pointedly turned around, stared at him and planted him to the floor with a sticking charm that Hermione had taught him. Harry cursed, glued to the floor unable to unstick himself since he didn’t know the counter and swore aloud as practically felt the black wave come around the corner.

‘Language Mister Potter.’ He growled. ‘Why are you lingering before the bathroom?’

‘Ron stuck me to the floor.’ He grumbled, clenching his hands in his trousers. If only Hermione hadn’t been called away by some Ravenclaw’s and Hufflepuff’s that wanted her assistance with homework. He swore again without thinking, vehemently at his shoes.

‘What did I just say Mister Potter, watch your language.’ It was a louder growl then he shifted forward and leaned into Harry’s ear. ‘You have already disregarded a detention with me, you have ignored my warning, do you think that wise? You are not getting out of any punishments today.’ He hissed. Harry shivered and then whimpered as he was practically plucked from the floor and immediately tossed over a shoulder. He squeaked, hands clawing at Snape’s robe as he hung upside down. ‘Quiet.’

The one word was all Harry heard as they walked the deserted halls. What was this? Where was Harry’s luck? There should be hundreds of students around to see this!! He struggled and tried a few times but after they reached a corner of a hallway, he was smacked, HARD.

He cried out, and then heard a “What was that?”

He almost did it again so they would come investigate but there was a pressure on his backside that told him he shouldn’t attempt it unless he wished to never sit again. He whimpered and scrambled at the robe as they waited for the students to go the opposite way. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

//

OOMPH.

The sound escaped him as he was thrown to the surprisingly soft mattress of what he could only guess was his Professor’s bed. He scrambled quickly to sit up and turn to face the angry man, his hands out in front of him. His body shook without his permission. ‘I’m sorry.’ He said immediately, his legs folded up beneath him.

Snape’s eyebrow rose with a tilt of his head.

‘…’

The door of the darkly lit room closed soundly with one hand behind the elder man. Harry swallowed audibly and thickly; it felt like there was something stuck in his throat. He watched the man cautiously as he moved around his private room, divesting himself of his robe and outer frock until he was just in trousers and white dress shirt. The man’s polished shoes found themselves divested and placed beneath a corner armchair that housed a blanket and an opened book and the man’s ebony wand slipped into his palm as he turned back to face Harry.

‘…’

‘…’

There was a brief staring contest.

The wand raised, Harry flinched backwards, falling to his elbows before he could stop himself. The tip sparked, magic weaved before them and swept the room before heading straight for the raven. He shuddered as it enveloped him, spun him with a yelp, took his arms forward from under him so that his body slid across the mattress, dragged his arse up and spread his legs. ‘Wha—’ He stuttered.

He tried to move but the magic remained for a moment more, divesting him of trousers, shoes and socks, then he saw, between his forelocks Snape’s hands slip to his wrists with something shining. He blanched when he saw that they were shackles. He tugged once they were in position but since Snape’s bed was actually made of wire, the metal went nowhere past the metal bar that stood before it. He struggled, starting to mumble when he felt the same thing happen to his ankles but at a larger distance; the magic still kept his arse upwards, at least until Snape’s hands replaced it.

His hand rested against the anxiety induced flushed flesh.

Harry couldn’t help the shudder. ‘Professor…’ His voice was a squeak. His eyebrows were drawn inwards and twitched in anxiety. He’d made the man really angry but he wasn’t sure that it was just because he’d missed a punishment—something told him there was more to it than that. His shudder continued as both hands touched his revealed backside and they were briefly pulled apart—this would cause the man behind him to see everything back there. He couldn’t help when his pucker pulsed at the separation of his cheeks he grew more anxious when nothing happened for several minutes; the cheeks were just, left apart, held there, by the man’s large hands.

Was he staring?

He cheeks turned pink for an entirely different reason and his cock gave a twitch between his legs, bobbing slightly that he was sure the man would notice.

SMACK.

Harry’s body slid forward and the chain between his cuffs rattled against the metal, his mouth falling open with a cry at the sudden and sharp pain right between both cheeks.

What?

SMACK.

His body slid forward again, and his throat let out another cry.

SMACK!

Harry’s cry this time was loud and drawn out, his eyes closing tightly as he slid only partially forward—a hand coming to his hip and dragging him back, keeping him grounded on the soft material beneath his uncovered knees.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Ow, ow, ow, ow, OW!

The tears came immediately to the corners of his eyelashes.

‘A tattoo, and just how did you acquire that?’

Harry whimpered, his shirt being thrown upwards until it was held bunched around his neck.

‘A phoenix. How fitting for the Saviour.’ The man’s voice was incredibly sarcastic.

Fuck.

The shirt was torn off over his head and dragged down to his cuffed hands. He basically entirely naked in his Professor’s fucking room and he was sure he shouldn’t be responding the way his lower half appeared to be. There was a growl, ‘You just don’t quit, do you?’

‘Hu—huh?’ The raven shivered out the word.

Snape huffed behind him, giving him another sharp swat that landed directly over his quivering entrance as the man pushed him forwards further until his ass was even further in the air, his face pressed even more into the mattress, practically forcefully moved to his elbows—he could feel the man’s fingers of his left hand digging into his arse cheek. He quivered on the mattress, twitching as he cried out and sobbed.

‘Is there not once when you don’t do something that pisses me off?’

Harry’s eyebrows drew back in, his lashes wet with tears sticking together as they opened and he widened them; what was he supposed to say to that?

The same kind of smack came again and he sobbed louder as he twitched, the chain jingling.

The man laughed, ‘ _How prettily red and_ _quivering.’_

Harry’s eyes widened.

‘Did you enjoy your time with Miss Lovegood?’

‘Wha—what?’

‘Well I can hardly ignore that. It’s been all over the school since this morning. Really, have a little shame Mister Potter—next time maybe you shouldn’t wake up in your one-night lover’s dormitory?’

The man had a fair point there. Harry made no noise besides shifting his wrists.

‘You have been quite the annoyance this term.’

Harry blinked into the mattress.

‘I think, since you know that I do not tolerate disobedience of my orders, you can receive twice as much punishment tonight.’

Harry whimpered.

//

It started abruptly again and he was sure that magic was keeping his cheeks apart so that with each smack of the man’s hand or the man’s paddle that re-emerged, it hit across his burning entrance. He was a sobbing mess and he was already crying his apologies to the unrelenting man above him; the man was taking great pleasure in the torture he was dishing out. Harry really wasn’t going to be able to sit for weeks when the man was through tonight. 

Harry wasn't sure what he was apologising for, again. 

Harry’s face sat in pool of his tears, soaked into the thin black sheet and his drool as he cried out, louder and louder with each harsh swat to his entrance.

SMACK, SMACK, SMACK.

SMACK, SMACK, SMACK.

SMACK

SMACK

SMACK

SMACK!

SMACK!

SMACK!

‘Potter, I’m sure you understand what comes next?’

//

Harry barely remembered hearing those words. His world had narrowed to the hands on his backside, the pain that resonated through him, the bruises he could feel from Snape’s fingers and the way that alarmingly as it progressed and he was sure magic was being used to keep him from going numb to the pain, he cock started to actually react.

It hardened, it lengthened further, he was sure it was almost harder than it ever had been before. It was pressed right up against his stomach as he arched back from the mattress with each hand on his backside. It wiped into the black sheet, his pre-cum spreading across his toned flushed abs. It bounced, it twitched with every smack.

He had no idea when everything suddenly shifted.

He had no idea **how** it had suddenly shifted.

Or why it would.

But it **did**.

//

‘Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!’ The one expletive was drawn out and echoed around the room.

The huffing behind him was heavy and rough and heated as it brushed against his sweat streaked back muscles, his phoenix arching its wings across his back in a show of magical workmanship.

‘Ah! Ah! Nn, Nn, N, Ah!’ His sweaty body slid across the mattress, forced along by the body behind him, the fingers of the man behind him digging bruises into his hips as he tried to keep them close—his arse burned with every push forwards as it was brushed and his entrance burned with every stroke of the thick, heavy shaft inside of him. He was clawing at the wall with his short nails as his hands remained bound around the metal bedframe. He was sure he was punishing himself by doing this because the man wasn’t going to like seeing the gauges made in his wall length tapestry.

‘Ah! Ah! Ah! Nn, Nn, N, N, AH!!’

Instead of smacks, it was brutal, punishing thrusts. But despite this, despite Harry’s cries, the pain he could feel, the tears he shed, there was pleasure there. He wasn’t sure how long the brutality lasted, he wasn’t even sure he hadn’t passed out at some point but he knew when he cried out his orgasm, squirting upwards onto the tapestry and all over himself as he was pulled harshly backwards and onto the man’s thick cock, his arms stretched tight by the short chain that bound him to the bedframe. It was probably his hardest and fiercest orgasm.

He knew when the Potions Master filled him, when it started to seep out as the man continued to thrust, his cock not even softening, spilling out between them and coating their lower bodies. He knew when he was unchained, dragged around, his legs thrust to his heaving chest, his forehead drenched with sweat dripping into his eyes and making them sting, his glasses gone someplace, he knew when he had his second orgasm but he didn’t remember after that.

No, no that’s wrong. He remembered something before nothing. He remembered words.

Words that, right now, as he lay wounded wrists pressed close to his face as he brought his hands to cover his mouth to slow his suddenly erratic breathing, pressed so close, understanding what the fuck had just happened but not WHY, to a naked Snape, the man’s cock pressed snuggly between his arse cheeks but no longer thankfully inside him, made him shudder.

“You’re mine.”

The words had been growled as he’d been ploughed into, as he’d been taken, as he been fucked brutally, his first time with a man, by Snape.

He wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“You’re mine.”

“ **You’re mine**.” The words kept repeating as he lay there, unsure what to do.


End file.
